


Browser

by shamusandstone (theleaveswant)



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Fucking Machines, Gen, Solo Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-15
Updated: 2009-08-15
Packaged: 2017-10-09 20:49:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/91460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theleaveswant/pseuds/shamusandstone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mac finds something interesting in Logan's browser history and shares it with Parker, who's impressed and inspired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Browser

**Author's Note:**

> Also contains film/photography, voyeurism/exhibitionism, toys. Spoilers for 3x17 &amp; 3x20. Humble thanks to Kink.com and particularly the "Fucking Machines" and "Behind Kink" divisions for all the free samples and helpful information, and to Avenue Q for putting to music what we already knew. Thanks also to Toft, whose story Homo Ex Machina inspired my own less-graceful attempt to talk about sexual technologies beyond the literal (because I am both pretentious and a copycat). Thanks to Neeuqdrazil for looking it over (she is the Q to my Bond?).

Parker's face fell when she entered the room to catch Mac slamming shut her laptop and blushing furiously. "Oh god," Parker groaned. "Another sex video? Am I in this one?"

She went to her closet to continue packing her things for the trip back to Denver, suddenly dreading having to explain this one to her parents.

"No, no more sex videos," Mac said, "at least not featuring anyone we know."

Parker grinned, relieved. "It was porn though, right?"

"That is what the internet is for. Wait—if it was a sex video of you, who'd have co-starred?"

It was Parker's turn to blush as she folded a sweater. "Nobody. Never mind. Is it good porn?"

Luckily, Mac was pretty courteous about dropping that kind of subject. "I guess. I was still trying to wrap my head around the juxtaposition of 'whose' and 'what kind'."

"That sounds juicy. Please expand."

Mac bit her lip. "Erm. You'd have to promise not to tell him I told you. In fact you should probably not mention it at all. Actually, you know, it's really not all that weird and I shouldn't have said anything and we should stop talking about this right now."

Parker was less courteous. "No way. Not after a build-up like that. Is it Piz's? Women playing electric guitar in the shower?"

Mac grinned. "It's not Piz's—and that wouldn't have been much of a juxtaposition. It's . . . you remember how I helped Logan with the tech side of that Econ project? Well, the prof panned him but I think the business model still totally works so I went over there to sort out some last details before I set it up to go live. Anyway, Logan left the room for a minute and his laptop was right there, so I sort of maybe," she grimaced and rushed through the next words, "peeked through his browser history. And I found this."

She rotated the machine to face Parker, the screen showing the front page of Kink.com. "I thought he might've run into it looking for competition for our thing, but he's had a membership for months."

Mac turned the screen back around and scooched over so that Parker could sit next to her on the bed. "It's kind of a neat site, actually. I mean they have a really great ethics statement about how they treat their models and staff, and everybody seems genuinely into what they're doing."

"And what exactly are they doing?" Parker frowned at the screen.

"So far I've mostly been looking at the behind-the-scenes stuff, which is pretty educational. But they've got all these channels of porny content." She skimmed her cursor over the sidebar links. "Mostly marketed-to-straight-men bondage and SM stuff in various gender configurations, some gay channels. Most of Logan's downloaded videos seem to be from, and this is the part that surprised me, 'Men In Pain'."

"Fem dom? Seriously?"

"I only know which links he clicked, not why, but yeah. That seems to be his favourite."

"Interesting." Parker tapped her fingers on her lips. "What's this one--'Fucking Machines'?"

"One of their most popular channels, apparently, and pretty much what it sounds like. Machines. Fucking girls."

"No way."

"Way." Mac clicked and a new tab opened. "Assorted mechanical contraptions—most prominently but not exclusively dildoes on sticks—driving professional and amateur porn models to big, big orgasms."

"Have you watched any of them?"

"A couple of the sample videos. Honestly I found it kind of silly."

"Show me."

"Which one?" Mac scrolled down until Parker pointed at the screen. She loaded the sample video for the brunette Parker had picked and stifled a laugh at some of the noises she and the machines made.

"That's all?" Parker frowned.

"That's just the free trailer. You have to pay for the whole shoot."

"Nuts!"

"But I can access them through Logan's membership."

The video consisted of short scenes with different set-ups cut together; about halfway through the half-hour sequence Mac confessed, "It seems much less ridiculous when you can see more of the process." Parker, staring at the screen with wide eyes and parted lips, didn't answer.

When the video finished and the model flashed the camera one last satisfied grin, Parker turned her own grin on Mac. "Can we watch another one?"

"I've got to go get prerequisite waivers for some of the advanced courses I'm taking next year, and then I'm meeting Veronica for lunch. I'll leave it logged in though, you can watch whatever you want while I'm gone."

"You're not worried I'll go through your browser history?"

Mac snorted as she tugged on her shoes. "I know how to hide the good stuff."  
*  
When Mac returned several hours later, Parker was sprawled on her belly on Mac's bed exactly as she'd left her. "You haven't been watching that stuff all afternoon," she said as the speakers projected, quietly but unmistakably, the sounds of rapidly-firing pistons and moaning.

"Of course not," Parker said, gesturing at the neat stack of boxes on her own side of the room. "I gave myself an incentive scheme, equal parts work and play."

Mac wandered around to look over Parker's shoulder just as the model in the video rode one of the machines to a shrieking, squirting orgasm.

"I had no idea you were into this."

"Me neither—I didn't even know it existed."

"What is it you like about it? If you don't mind my asking."

"I dunno," Parker said, returning to the menu page and scrolling down. "In so much of the porn I've seen, the sex looks totally fake, like, or maybe because, the relationships between the people having it are fake. Even if the models are lovers in real life it looks fake because they're so practiced at having fake sex on film. This looks more honest somehow. Like people just having fun with toys, except," she made a vague gesture suggesting scaling up, "the Godzilla version of that."

"Well, if you want Godzilla porn," Mac snickered and reached to open a new tab but Parker pushed her hands away.

"You know what I mean. Usually people playing with toys isn't that fun because you might as well do it yourself, but this . . ."

Mac nodded. "No, I kinda get that. Want me to set you up with a free membership?"

Parker hmmed. "No, this I'd be willing to pay for. Maybe a fake name though?"

"I can do that." Mac leaned in to work her hacker magic, and smirked a little when she noticed that Parker had the model application page open in another tab.  
*  
Mac started smiling as soon as she saw Parker standing in line at the housing office, though her brows knit together when she saw that Weevil was with her, apparently obtaining her autograph.

"I'd say I hope to see more of you this year," Weevil said, grinning, as Mac trotted over to join them, "but I don't know how much more there is to see."

Parker laughed and handed back his sharpie. He kissed her knuckles and saluted Mac before strolling off across campus with an admissions package under his arm.

"What was that about?" Mac asked

"You remember that website with the machines?"

"No. Wait, that one? Yeah, I remember that one."

"Well . . ." Parker passed Mac her blackberry, open to the fucking machines webpage. Right at the top, beneath a header announcing "amateur girl friday" and a preposterous pseudonym, was a collage of photos of Parker, flushed, sweating and profoundly naked. The largest image was a close up of her face, round-mouthed, contorted and beautiful.

"You didn't!"

"I had to! After you showed me the site, I couldn't not. I just kept thinking about the machines, how fast they were, how loud, wondering what they smelled like, if the lights in the studio were warm—after weeks of letting the wondering drive me batty, I made up my mind to find out. And I did, and it was _awesome_."

"Wow," Mac said. "That's great! Really, good for you."

Parker grabbed Mac around the shoulders and hugged her. "You wanna watch the video?"

"Here?" Mac blushed.

Parker giggled, "I meant when they give us a room."

"Hm," Mac said after a pause. "No, thank you. I don't think that's something I need to watch my roommate doing. But hey, whatever gets your motor running."


End file.
